


IT: Chapter 3

by rotg5311



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Closeted Character, Divorce, Failed Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay, Healing, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, NO DEATH, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, bad previous marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-10-18 05:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotg5311/pseuds/rotg5311
Summary: Eddie makes it out alive, but just barely. By his side every step of the way during recovery, Richie is just as in love with Eddie as the day he left Derry. Between killing his childhood monster, an extremely painful recovery, and a nagging wife he fell out of love with long ago, Eddie takes solace in the presence of his dearest childhood friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't happy with the ungay ending so I'm making a new one :)

“Somebody call a fucking ambulance!” Richie screams, unable to keep his voice steady. He’d do it himself, but he needs both hands to help Mike hold Eddie’s limp form up. Limp, but not dead. Yet.

He watches as Billy pulls his phone out of his pocket, before showing off his shattered screen in disbelief. Ben pats himself down, looking for the phone that decided to pull a disappearing act. Next is Beverly, and for fucks sake, she’s the only competent one in the group. Her shrill voice talking to the operator is the only thing keeping Richie grounded to reality.

Dragging Eddie out isn’t easy, but they manage. In fact, Richie isn’t entirely sure how they get him up each shaft and out of the house, but they do. Just in time for Eddie to close his eyes as his head lolls backward.

“Eddie? Fuck! Eddie wake up!” His voice sounds even more panicked now. Stressed, strained. He hardly notices as the dilapidated house crumbles behind them. “Where the fuck is the ambulance?”

“On its way.” Beverly’s voice is reassuring, yet it brushes right over Richie, doing nothing to calm him. Looking down at the red soaked shirt held firmly in place by his belt, Richie doesn’t have to check the second shirt on Eddie’s back to know it’s in the same condition. The event plays slow motion in his mind. Eddie smiling down at him. A sickening wet thud. The warm spray of blood.

“Is it coming all the way from California? What’s taking so long?” Even as he asked the question, the soft sounds of sirens registered in the back of his mind. “Someone take him.”

Richie was pulling himself out from under the surprisingly heavy weight of Eddie, leaving Mike alone to hold him momentarily before Billy swooped in and took his spot. Then he was hunched over, vomiting bile onto the tar below him. It hurt, but so did everything else. It was a welcome distraction from everything else.

Flashing lights. So many lights. So many questions. He didn’t even get the opportunity to fight his way into Eddie’s ambulance as they rushed him away. Panic welled inside him, threatening to spill out of his body along with a new wave of vomit. Richie held it back, forcefully. He had just managed to convince the EMT on site that he didn’t need an ambulance. She’d be all over him once more if she saw him throwing up.

With all the commotion and no good explanation of what happened, they snuck off before anyone could stop them. Richie’s first instinct was to head straight for the hospital to make sure Eddie got through whatever surgery they would perform. Instead, he let himself get dragged along with the others, not even paying attention to where they were headed until he nearly walked into Ben’s stopped body before him.

Cold water engulfed him like a hard slap to the face. Odd for this time of year, but not unwelcome. Washing his glasses off, Richie finally let himself think. Think of what they had done. Think of Eddie.

“We have- I have to-” Swallowing back a thick feeling welling in his throat, Richie fought for the right words to come out. “I need to see Eddie.”

“We all will. Just give him time. He needs a lot of work done.” Beverly smiled weakly at him before noticing the tears streaming down his face. “They’ll fix him. They will.”

An ugly sob forced its way out of him. Any other time Richie would be ashamed at such a display, but at the moment nothing else mattered but Eddie. It had been like that for a while, even if he hadn’t always remembered. Bodies wrapped around his own, hugging. Squeezing comfort into him until Richie could finally calm himself enough to stop the tears.

Eventually they waded out of the water, climbing to grab their shoes before heading into town. The Hospital loomed in front of him, angry and formidable. What if Eddie didn’t make it? What if they hadn’t gotten him out fast enough? What if he was gone? What if what if what if. A million questions churned in his head, none of them remotely good.

Slamming himself down on the reception desk, Richie glared impatiently at the Woman on the phone, then at the empty chairs beside her. Minutes dragged on, filling him with a mixture of anger and fear. He needed to find Eddie now.

“May I help you?” Another Woman appeared in front of him out of thin air. It didn’t even matter where she came from, as long as she could help.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” He sputtered after a moment of silence. “Edward Kaspbrak. He came in… a while ago. Lanced through the chest.”

“Are you family?” Her polite smile made him feel queasy.

“No, we’re his friends.” Richie gestured behind him at the gang hovering in place around him.

“I’m sorry, but access is only being granted at this time to immediate family members.”

“You don’t understand. I need to see Eddie.” A crack in his voice was enough to cause him to flinch. Still, he carried on an octave louder. “So tell me what room he’s in. I need to see him now.”

“Sir, Mr. Kaspbrak is in surgery. Even if you were his immediate family I wouldn’t be allowed to let you in.” The Woman frowned to herself before adding, “Next of kin has been contacted. His Wife. She’s on her way. Any and all information will be passed on to her and her alone. I suggest you find her for updates.”

Richie let his head fall onto his hands resting on the counter below him. Relief rushed through him, strong enough to make his knees go weak. Eddie was in surgery. That meant he was alive, and that was enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

Waiting on news of Eddie was torture. Hours passed with nothing, leaving Richie feeling more agitated by the second. By now almost everyone had slipped off to rest except for Billy. Side by side they sat in silence. Richie letting his leg bounce rapidly as the only way to let out his agitation. Billy’s head lolled to the side every so often before he would jerk back awake, looking wildly around. When the shorter man’s head finally rested on Richie's shoulder he briefly considered sending him back to the Hotel to sleep. Selfishly deciding against it, Richie let Billy sleep there instead. It meant he wouldn’t be alone and that was something he desperately needed now.

A large tv hung just within his view serving as the only distraction to his thoughts. News news and more news. What channel were they watching that didn’t have any variety at all? Every so often he would let his eyes drift to the front desk where he would catch the receptionists eyes time and time again. It should agitate him because that was something that usually did. Now he just felt devoid of all emotion.

“Sir.” Looking away from the tv he was only pretending to watch Richie saw the same Woman standing in front of him. She looked significantly more tired than the first time he talked to her. “My shift is ending and I just wanted to let you know that your friend is still in surgery.”

Mildly registering a ‘thank you’ on his lips, Richie let his tense body relax just a fraction. Eddie was still alive. Still fighting. Knowing it wasn’t true, Richie couldn’t help but tell himself that if Eddie had made it this long then he would live. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

‘I killed him.’ Eddie smiled down at him, eyes twinkling in the dim light. Despite the out of body feeling lingering from the deadlights along with his full body ache settling deep into his bones, Richie could only focus on that smile. The same smile he fell in love with so many years ago. 

The warm spray of blood in his face sent a ripple of fear tearing through his body. A giant stinger stared menacingly at him from the center of Eddie, yet the only thing Richie could look at was the pure terror he was feeling mirrored in Eddies own eyes.

‘Richie? Rich..’ The Eddie was yanked backward as Richie jolted awake. Sweat dripped off him. Billy’s firm hand was on his shoulder, shaking him aggressively.  
“Rich wake up.” He said looking Richie in the eye. Billy looked so tired. Weak even, and that wasn’t a look Richie had seen on him often. Just as he was getting ready to tell his friend to head back for some sleep, a large woman burst through the door in hysterics.

“My husband!” She wailed, throwing herself at the counter. Tears streamed down her blotchy red face as she feebly tried wiping them away. A hint of recognition registered in the back of his mind. She had a familiar face, but so did half the people in Derry. He grew up there after all. “Edward Kaspbrak! Where is he?”

Richie shot to his feet, feeling Billy close on his heels. The woman didn’t even notice them until he was practically in her face. Recoiling, she shot a confused look to the stranger now very much in her personal space.

“Myra?” The name flooded his mind instantly, recalling his conversation with Eddie at the Hotel.

“Do I know you?” Now that he was face to face with the woman, Richie almost laughed. Eddie’s wife was the spitting image of his mother, albeit a few decades younger than the last time he saw her.

“Eddie. I’m Eddie’s friend. Richie.” Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, he pointed to Billy. “This is Bill. We uh…”

He was at a loss for words. We what? We fought a killer clown and it almost killed your husband? We watched Eddie nearly bleed out? Even saying they were there for the accident was wrong because she would ask questions.

He only half remembered the lame excuse they told the first responders. The house collapsed and falling beam pierced through him. ‘You should have left it in, to keep the bleeding under control.’ No one replied to the EMT, but he did see a few sour expressions flicker across the faces surrounding him. Instead of being mad, he could only feel guilty. Yes it was a lie and Richie couldn’t have actually left the non existent beam inside of his best friend, but he still felt responsible for Eddie being stabbed in the first place. He had been saving Richie from the deadlights. Then he was so preoccupied checking on Richie that It’s clawed tendril snuck up on both of them.

A man in a white coat approached them, stopping whatever conversation he had been attempting. Eddie’s Surgeon. The words not meant for him only slightly registered past the growing exhaustion threatening to overwhelm his senses. 

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, your husband is out of surgery, but...” Wobbling, Richie felt Billy’s arm wrap firmly around him, keeping him steady. “...Induced coma until he’s stable.”  
Eddie was alive. Relief flooded through his body, and for the moment he would choose to ignore the part about the coma. As long as Eddie was alive, everything else could wait. A blur of motion passing by snapped him back to reality. Myra following the Doctor into the Intensive Care Unit. Fast as lighting, Richie saw a hand shoot out and grab her arm before he even realized it belonged to him.

“They won’t let me back there. Family only.” His smile was weak. Pathetic. “Will you keep me posted? Please.”

The stare down lasted an eternity too long. Richie could practically see the wheels turning in her head. No doubt she had a million and one questions, and he was prepared to answer them all, lies or not, if it meant she would keep him updated on Eddie’s condition. Finally, she gave him a slow head nod before turning around and following the Doctor once more. It wasn’t much, but it was reassuring enough to finally get Richie to sit back down. He’d wait there as long as he needed for Eddie.


	3. Chapter 3

Unwillingly, Richie fell backwards onto his bed at the Hotel. As much as his aching body begged for sleep, he didn’t want to leave the Hospital. In fact, Billy had to forcefully drag him out when Beverly and Ben came to switch shifts. He didn’t want shifts. He wanted to be there if anything happened. Still, almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, Richie was knocked out cold.

The dream was almost the same as the Hospital. Almost. This time though, Richie had been so thrilled to see Eddie alive and well that he sat up, grabbing the man’s face for a kiss. In slow motion, Eddie leaned in, wide eyed but ready. Then, just before their lips brushed together, a warm spray of blood coated him again and Eddie was calling out to Richie for help as he flew backwards through the air, lights flashing wildly around him.

Sitting up, Richie looked around in a panic before remembering where he was. He was safe. Eddie was safe. Or was he? Hands flinging across every pocket on his body, fear welled inside him when his phone was nowhere to be found. Glancing over at the nightstand, relief flooded through him at the sight of his phone staring back at him. A vague memory of slapping his phone, wallet, and keys down before flopping into bed flashed through his mind.

There were about a million missed calls from his agent that he chose to ignore for the time being. Richie had shows to go to. Places to be, people to meet. He was losing a lot of people money right now, including himself. None of that was important. No missed calls or texts from Beverly or Ben. That had to be a good sign, right? Still, he would call them just in case.

By the fourth ring, Richie was ready to pull out his hair. What was the point of having a phone if you weren’t going to answer it? When Beverly finally greeted him through the other end, Richie was ready to be snarky, sarcastic, and even borderline mean. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do anything other than let her talk. Eddie was alive, but not much had changed. He even let her yell about him trying to come back and check in in Eddie himself.

In the end, Richie let himself lay back down in bed no matter how strongly his mind retaliated against it. He needed a shower, a new set of clothes, food, sleep, and probably a good cry. Instead he just stared at his phone waiting for her to call back with more news. An ‘Eddie is awake and asking for you’ was just the thing he needed to lighten his mood right now, as impossible as he knew that wish was.

What he really wanted was to just see Eddie. He needed to see that he was alive. Needed to see that he wasn’t stuck in the Neibolt house, trapped forever. It was silly really. It wasn’t like everyone was in on some big scheme to lie and make Richie feel better. But seeing Eddie would put his mind to rest. Hopefully.

When he fell asleep for the second time, it was with a lot more effort involved. Richie shut his eyes tight, tried counting sheep, and even attempted meditating before finally succumbing to the tired haze that fogged his mind. This time dreams of the past haunted him. Stan. Even while dreaming an ache radiated through his chest at the loss of his best friend. And Stan had always been his best friend. 

Those who didn’t know them would probably assume Eddie was his best friend due to the sheer amount of time they spent together. But that wasn’t the case. Richie clung to Eddie making up excuse after excuse to be close to him, alone with him, and even to touch him in the most friendly, non friendly way. Soft touches to the face that he disguised as demeaning slaps. A light hold on Eddie’s ankle whenever they shared the hammock, which was more often than not. Hugs. Shoulder bumps. Anything and everything he could make up an excuse to get away with. Richie was so close to Eddie because he had been developing a crush on the boy he had known forever. Over time that crush turned into love, his first, and it tore at him in unimaginable ways. Richie Loved Eddie, but Stan was his best friend.

They told each other everything. Well, they told each other everything that was appropriate for boys to talk about back then, plus a little more. In fact, Stan was probably the only one in the Losers club that knew Richie was gay, though he never had the courage to ask. It was the little things that Stan picked up on, and of course he would, he was the smartest of them all. The looks, the touches. Even the way Richie overcompensated for his lack of attraction to women around actual women. No one else seemed to do anything other than roll their eyes at Richie’s lewd jokes and actions except for Stan who would just give him the look.

Even the R+E carving on the bridge that Richie had made the day he planned on and inevitably failed to force himself to stop loving Eddie. Stan had eyed it while they all stood around, a knowing smirk plastered on his face, before looking around nonchalantly. Seconds later he asked, “Hey Richie, you come here lately?”

Richie exploded on him. Asking why Stan was always so obsessed with what he was doing. He told him to ‘Fuck off’ and ‘crawl out of my ass’. But he knew that Stan knew. That was his writing and the E stood for Eddie. Richie showed up unannounced for a sleepover at Stan’s that night with as much smuggled candy as he could in an apology. Stan never brought up the carving again, but he did seem more and more exasperated every time Richie and Eddie bickered over the little things. If he was a better friend he would stop doing it all together. But he wasn’t. He was just a fool in love and fighting with Eddie meant the boy was giving him attention. So he would let Richie be tired of all the arguing and let Eddie think he was a complete dick as long as it meant he was getting that much needed one on one interaction with the boy.

So losing Stan hurt a lot. And he hoped Pennywise rotted in whatever Hell he was stuck in for eternity. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault. Them growing apart, splitting up, leaving Derry, forgetting each other. All the nightmares, Stan killing himself, Eddie in critical condition. With tears in his eyes, Richie woke up feeling more exhausted than before. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

Even once Richie got Myra’s number, he still showed up to wait in the waiting room just in case. It was silly because no one knew what he was there for, so it’s not like they would come rushing out to tell him anyways. But it still felt right being there just in case. He knew he would get a call from Myra as soon as Eddie was stable enough to be woken up, or whatever they did for induced coma’s. Or at least she said she would after he strung some lame excuse about what happened to Eddie. An extension of the lie they told about a falling beam. She ate it right up, more worried than before, but also a little angry. Even though it killed him to do so, he blamed the event entirely on Eddie. He told her how Eddie talked them into reliving bits and pieces of their childhood and was messing around when he shouldn’t have been. The lie hurt, but it was the only way he could get her to not hate him entirely. Myra was his only source of information on Eddie at the moment, and if that meant she thought he was some sort of Saint for trying to keep Eddie safe, then that’s how it had to be.

The day he got the phone call, Richie almost cried. In truth, as much as he was hoping and praying, which wasn’t something he’d done in years, that Eddie made it through, he was entirely prepared for Myra to tell him he didn’t make it. Instead, she called to inform him they had woken Eddie up that morning and he was fine, even if dazed and confused.

“They said the swelling in his head was nearly gone so they woke him up.” Briefly Richie realized Eddie must’ve hit his head at some point for that to happen. Maybe when It was flinging him around. Or perhaps something fell on his head as they were rushing out, letting the house crumble around them. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Eddie was up. Eddie was alive. “They’re moving him out of the ICU within the week.”

Richie would be able to visit then. His heart did flips in his chest. He had waited so long already, surely a few more days wouldn’t kill him. But it did. The next four days dragged on eternally. At least it wasn’t the entire week like Myra made him believe it would be. Rushing to the Hospital, Richie was sure that if Derry’s Police Department wasn’t so grossly understaffed he would’ve been pulled over and arrested immediately for just how fast he was going over the speed limit.

The receptionist checking him in took so long that he was ready to just storm the Hospital and find Eddie himself. Instead he stood there shifting anxiously from foot to foot as he handed over his ID, signed a sheet, and listened to directions on how to get to the right room. In any other circumstances the long walk down corridor after corridor wouldn’t be so bad. But at the moment, Richie's legs couldn’t move fast enough. He had some silly notion that if he didn’t see Eddie soon the man would die. Completely ridiculous… He hoped.

Barreling through the partially open door, Richie didn’t even care about politeness. He should’ve knocked at the very least. Eddie could have been in the middle of an exam or trying to use a bedpan, or even having a tender moment with his wife. The thought was enough to stop him dead in his tracks, a bitter shot to his chest. Instead he saw the Woman crammed into a too small chair on the opposite end of the room, face buried in her phone looking almost inconvenienced to be there. Richie would ignore it for now. Myra could’ve been mad at literally anything else in the world and it would’ve made more sense than if she was angry that she had been sitting at her own Husband's bedside for a week. Perhaps a nurse messed up Eddie’s medicine or… Well it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was Eddie.

“Hey Eds.” Richie did his best to mask the hurt threatening to spill over. Eddie looked awful. Battered, bruised. A large bandage taped to his cheek where Bowers had stabbed him. Wires and machines attached to his small frame. Even with both a hospital gown and blanket covering the man, Richie knew there was a nasty wound underneath from It’s claw that would leave a hideous scar. An all too familiar cast wrapped around his left arm was the one thing that brought a smile to Richie’s face. Well that and the way Eddie’s eyes lit up when he saw him.

“Richie?” Eddie sat up fully, wincing as he looked down at his own torso. Richie wondered how many times he had done that in the past few days. He also wondered why Eddie hadn’t protested at the use of his nickname. For as long as Richie had been using it, Eddie hated being called Eds. What kind of pain killers did they have him on? “You’re ok. Is... Is everyone else ok? Did they make it out of-”

“Out of that rickety old shack you dragged us into?” Richie said loudly, cutting Eddie off. He wasn’t sure how much the man knew about the lie he had told Myra. Whenever they got a minute alone he’d have to fill him in and hope Eddie wasn’t too mad about it. “Yeah we’re all fine, man.”

A sigh of relief from Eddie was grossly overpowered by a loud huff of annoyance from Myra. Richie cringed internally. It was his fault she was so mad at her husband now. Maybe if he had told the lie a little differently? Maybe if he had blamed it on someone else she wouldn’t be glaring at her phone like it personally offended her.

“They’ll be by later. Didn’t want to overwhelm you on your first day out of the ICU.” It was Beverly’s idea and while it sounded like a good one, Richie was mostly using it as an excuse for some alone time with Eddie. Or, as alone as they could be with his Wife sulking in the corner.

“It’s not my first day out of the ICU. I’ve been here a while now.” Big brown eyes fell off of Richie and onto Myra. “Two days?”

“Nearly three now.” She didn’t even look up from her phone.

It was like a slap to the face. Four days he had waited for Eddie to be transferred to a place with open visitation only to learn he had been there for most of that time. Anger seethed deep within him. Of course he had assumed Myra would let him know as soon as it happened, but why would she? She had no obligation to help out a stranger, especially one that was partially responsible for her Husband’s near death. Richie had no reason to be angry. But he was.

“Glad to see you in one piece. Mostly.” Richie plastered a fake smile to his face. He could pretend things were fine for now. It’s not like he had any other options. “You broke your arm. Again.”

“At least it’s the other one this time.” A weak laugh. Whenever they got a minute alone he’d ask about the arm. Richie didn’t see him break it, but there had been so much going on at the time. Like the hot spray of Eddie’s blood across his face and the gaping hole in his limp body. Cringing, Richie pulled up the only other chair in the room sitting as close to Eddie as he could. If the other man thought it was weird, he didn’t say anything. Myra didn’t even look up from her phone.

“Well, Dr. K,” The English accent fell easily from his lips as he gestured over Eddie’s battered body. “Tell me the prognosis.”

Anger gave way to a tingly feeling in his arms, legs, and chest the more Eddie laughed along with Richie’s stupid jokes. Eddie was alive. Everything else could wait.


	5. Chapter 5

Myra was intolerable. Bitter, rude, and utterly unbearable. Sure Richie wasn’t married, but he doubted he would ever have it in him to yell at his seriously injured Husband the way Myra did to Eddie. It was sickening really. More often than not he had to slink out of the room before he accidentally dragged himself into the argument. Staying quiet had never been his strong suit.

So far he had heard her complain about the chair which was awful on her back, the disgusting hospital food, the shabby hotel she was staying in since she couldn’t be bothered to stay by his side all night, the amount of time they were taking to release Eddie, the nasty scars he would inevitably get due to his injuries, her time away from her mother. The list went on for a mile but Richie hated thinking of everything on it. If Myra wasn’t a Woman, his best friend’s wife, and ten times his body mass, Richie might seriously consider knocking her lights out. Instead, he sat silently, only leaving when the rotten words became too much. It was more often than not.

“Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie practically kicked in the door, a habit he picked up somewhere along his daily visitation to Eddie. As usual, he was there before Myra. Her absence was like a breath of fresh air. “I need to sign your cast.”

It was something he had been planning on doing for a while. He finally went out and got a permanent marker for the job. Well two, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. Yet.

“What are we twelve?” Eddie rolled his eyes but propped his arm up on the sidebar of the bed, reaching for the remote with his other hand. Richie took the distraction as his window of opportunity.

“In height only. Wait, that's you not me.” Richie ignored the glare shot his way. As soon as Eddie’s attention was back on the TV Richie made his move.

LOSER. Big bold letters from his marker stood in stark contrast to the white cast. He smiled at his work, waiting patiently for Eddie to notice.

“Dude what the fuck?” It was the first swear he heard come out of the man since Myra arrived. She ‘hated’ profanity if that made any sense. To Richie it didn’t. They were sentence enhancers. How else was Richie supposed to express himself properly?

“Once a loser always a loser, Eds.” Another eye roll made Richie grin. He missed this. He missed Eddie.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” A pout that made Richie’s stomach flip. Adorable.

“Ok so you hate it.” Reaching into his pocket, Richie pulled out a red marker, trying to keep his face neutral. It was something from their childhood. It didn’t have to mean anything more. “Let me fix it.”

Before Eddie could respond, Richie was drawing over the S with a V. Loser to Lover. Just like before. Just like Richie wanted. Instead of letting himself get flustered, Richie let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. It was the same tactic he had been using since he was 13.

“Hilarious.” The bland face his friend made didn’t reach his voice.

“I think so.”

“Myra won’t.”

The smile instantly fell off Richie’s face. Completely involuntarily of course. As much as he hated the bitch, she was still Eddie’s wife. It’s not like he could openly shit on her. That felt too much like a ‘pick me not her’ scenario. Richie just couldn’t do it, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I’m sorry, Eds.” Richie had only apologized a handful of times in his life, and never for anything as innocent as this. Yet, he felt like he had to. Myra yelled at Eddie enough already. Richie had just added fuel to the fire. Fuck.

Before Eddie could say anything, most likely to ask ‘since when does Richie Tozier apologize?’, Myra appeared in his peripheral vision. A ten ton shadow looming over their happiness like a storm cloud. He could see Eddie’s demeanor shift. Tense, uncomfortable, weak. Richie hated it, but he hated not being able to do anything about it much more.

“What is THAT?” Myra’s voice took on a tone Richie hadn’t heard yet. It was surprising because he had assumed he heard it all with as much as she yelled at Eddie.

“Oh that was me.” Richie answered. It was the first time he had ever stepped into an argument in the making. He didn’t feel right letting Eddie get in trouble for something he had done. “Just something from our childhood. It’s funny, I can tell you the story if you’d like.”

Myra glared at him like he had killed her dog. It was the first time in a long time that Richie felt afraid of something that wasn’t a killer inter-dimensional clown. Still, he kept a friendly smile on his face as he wiggled the markers between his fingers. The tension in the air was thick, palpable.

“You let another man write ‘Lover’ on your arm?” Richie should have been mad that she ignored him completely. Instead his stomach churned at her words.

‘Queer.’ The word shot through his mind like a cannon. Richie adjusted his glasses on his face, even though they were fine. It was a nervous habit he hadn’t divulged in since he left Derry. Wiping his sweaty palms on his hands, he thought of something, anything to say.

“Well there’s a story behind-” Richie started, trying to fill the deafening silence before Eddie cut him off.

“So what if I did, Myra?” Eddie’s voice sounded...solid. It probably wasn’t the best word to describe it, but that was the only one Richie could think of. Usually Eddie was delicate, weak, and even a little timid around his Wife. Now his voice was sturdy, strong, and determined.

Richie felt his throat constrict. Memories of his parents screaming toxic words at each other flooded back to him. It wasn’t something he had ever forgotten, but it was something he didn’t try and remember. Things had been easier when he kept that in the back of his mind as if it didn’t exist. Fights, yelling, and arguing in general made him feel sweaty and panicked. Looking back and forth between the two of them, all Richie could see were his Mother and Father. Wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, Richie shoved the markers deep within his pocket before shooting to his feet.

“You know, I’m just going to leave.” Richie said, ignoring Myra’s stank eye as he brushed past her.

“Richie, wait!” Eddie called out behind him. Richie didn’t let his feet stop moving until he was back at his car.


	6. Chapter 6

“You didn’t see Eddie today.” Beverly stuck her arm out to the wall, effectively trapping Richie there. He had been trying to avoid her all morning and they both knew it. If his stomach hadn’t been screaming for food for the past few hours then he probably would’ve succeeded.

“Really? I could have sworn I did.” He was deflecting and she would see right through it. Still, he had to try.

“Richie.” She let her arm fall, choosing to cross them over her chest in exasperation.

“Bev, come on. I’ve visited every day he’s been out of the ICU. One day isn’t going to kill him.” With nothing in his way anymore, Richie kept walking, hoping that was that and he could make it to his car before she stopped him again.

“He was asking for you.” Richie stopped, letting his eyes close. He didn’t want to deal with this. He still felt bad for causing a fight, plus he had dragged up memories of his parents that he would rather forget. The whole thing was a mess and Richie was desperate to avoid it.

“I am pretty great.” Turning around, he grinned at her. She just huffed out a sigh. “I just don’t want Mrs. Kaspbrak ripping off my head.”

“Myra wasn’t there.”

Oh? That was news. Richie didn’t know how to feel about it. Was it his fault? Of course it was. But was Eddie mad at him? Probably not if he had been asking for him. Or maybe he just wanted to yell at Richie?

“Stop that.” Beverly frowned at him.

“Stop what?” Richie looked down at his body. He was just standing there. 

“That face. It looks like you’re about to go into overdrive. You’re overthinking.”

“Overthinking what?” Playing dumb was better than letting Beverly in on anything he was thinking at the moment.

“Fuck if I know. But I do know you and I know you’re overthinking. Wanna talk?”

No. God no. Not about that.

“I think you’re the one overthinking it, Bev. I’m fine.” 

Glancing down at his watch, Richie saw that there was still time to visit Eddie for the day. But did he want to? Of course. Should he? Of course. So why wasn’t he?

There was a million and one reasons why. Yet, Richie found himself at the Deli they used to visit as kids, buying two sandwiches he had memorized, hoping that Eddie still liked what he used to order. Hell, he hoped Eddie could eat it at all. Who knew if the Hospital had him on some sort of dietary restrictions.

“Hey, SpaghEddie.” Richie held the sandwiches behind his back, waiting to use them as an apology in case Eddie was mad.

“Oh look who finally decided to show up.” Eddie’s voice was cold, but Richie saw the way his body perked up at the sight of him. Understandable. Richie would be bored senseless alone in a hospital. Sure, Myra wasn’t great to be around, but even her company must be preferable to being alone. Another pang of guilt shot through him for not visiting earlier. “Was beginning to think you were getting tired of me.”

“Eds, I’ve been tired of you since the day I met you.” He sat down, handing the red and white wrapped meal to the bedridden man. “So can you like, even eat this or are you on an all liquid diet? You know with the poop sack and everything.”

“Fuck you, dude.” Eddie eyed the sandwich as if contemplating the consequences. Then he ripped it from Richie’s grasp, and straight up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yup. The Eddie special.” Richie watched as Eddie devoured it, almost animalistic in nature. Still cute, but they clearly weren’t feeding him nearly enough. “You eat a lot for being so tiny.”

“Fuck you.” Eddie said, shoving the food in his mouth to the side so he could stick out his tongue. Richie’s stomach fluttered. 27 years later and Eddie was still cute enough to make him nervous. It was ridiculous, really.

“No but really, am I going to get in trouble for bringing you that sandwich? I’ve caused enough problems around here already.” Richie was trying to ease himself into an apology. He didn’t do well in serious situations. 

“They didn’t tell me I couldn’t eat it, so that’s on them, really. But if you’re talking about Myra, don’t even worry about it. We’re, um, getting a divorce.” Eddie didn’t look up from what was left of his food, but he had stopped eating.

“You what? Dude what the hell? Wait, is this my fault?” The heart hammering in his chest refused to quit. Memories of ‘Honey, your Father and I are getting divorced’ flooded his mind, threatening to turn his stomach.

“Oh, yeah absolutely.” Eddie finally looked at him, rolling his eyes. “No, Myra and I have had problems for a long long long time. It was bound to happen eventually. Yesterday was just the tipping point. In fact, they almost had to escort her out of here because she was making such a scene. I mean, you’ve seen how she usually is. That’s just her being mellow.”

“I’m sorry, Eds.” A hollow feeling settled in the pit of Richie’s stomach.

“Don’t be. Like I said, it would have happened sooner or later.” Eddie smiled. “This just means I’ll have to find somewhere else to live.”

“She gets the house?”

“It’s her Mother’s, not ours.”

“Wait so you’re telling me you were living with her AND her Mother? At least tell me she was a milf.” Richie flashed him a weak wink. It wasn’t something he would like to think about, but inappropriate jokes were supposed to be his specialty.

“She looks the same, just older. So much older.” Eddie frowned before shoving the last bite of his food in his mouth, carefully chewing it on the opposite side of where the bandage was.

“Oh so you have a type? I can’t believe we like the same thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, you fucked my mom. I get it. Funny.” Eddie’s fed up tone didn’t match the smile growing on his face. Richie missed this so much that it hurt. The buzz in his pocket caught his attention. Double clicking the power button, Richie sent it straight to voicemail, knowing it was his manager. Again. He’d deal with the consequences later. Right now he just wanted to be with Eddie.


	7. Chapter 7

The fight had been explosive. Richie’s Agent/Manager/Occasional Writer was pissed. He had been avoiding the texts, calls, and emails for weeks on end now, knowing with each passing day things would only get worse. Finally he got the time to call back and had to listen to the man yell for almost twenty minutes straight before he could get in a word to defend himself. It’s not like Richie was desperate for money. Refunding a handful of shows that he missed wasn’t too much of an issue. Handling the public was the problem. Thankfully, that wasn’t his job. He kept saying a ‘family emergency’ on repeat, as well as ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back. Whenever things settle down here.’

But when would that be? Richie wasn’t sure. The rest of the Loser’s Club had taken off already, but it wasn’t like he could do the same. Of course he missed his house and job. But Eddie took priority over everything. After nearly an hour on the phone, Richie was finally free. Well, for the next few days. He was expecting a ‘when are you coming back’ call soon, and he was threatened with being fired if he didn’t answer. It wasn’t like Richie could be fired, but he figured he’d answer anyways. Hopefully the call wouldn’t come while he was at the hospital. He had already told Eddie he had been taking time off from his shows before this whole ordeal had happened. It was a lie he was determined to keep up.

“So I was thinking,” Richie had a foot propped up on Eddie’s hospital bed, ignoring the glare of mild disgust from the other man. He had already taken off his shoe, he wasn’t sure what more Eddie wanted out of him. “We hang low at the Hotel for a few days, then we go sightseeing. Not that there’s much in Derry, but I figure they changed a few things here and there in the last 27 years. Or at least I hope they have. Then, maybe when you’re a little better we can go check out Bangor or Boston. Or whatever else is interesting up this way. It’s just something to do- why are you looking at me like that?”

A strange look had taken residence on Eddie’s face. A odd mixture of disbelief and awe that Richie wasn’t accustomed to. Richie couldn’t even imagine what it was for.

“We?”

“Yeah?” Richie clearly wasn’t picking up what Eddie was putting down because the man still had that Look.

“Rich, don’t you have like, a job to get back to? Pets? Plants? You’ve been here a long time.”

“Eddie, darling, you forget I’m loaded. I don’t need to work.” Not entirely the truth, but also not a lie. “As for pets and plants, I’m horrible with living beings, so there’s none of that. Wait, you thought I’d just leave you here? Eds you were saying you have nowhere to stay now.”

“Yeah but I didn’t mean-”

“I know. But I’m long overdue for a vacation anyways. So we’ll stay here until you figure out what to do.” Richie let a light smile cross his face, trying to keep his body relaxed as the next idea crossed his mind. “I mean, you could always come back to Cali with me.”

“California?” Eddie laughed at first, then once he realized Richie was serious his face changed into something more serious. More unreadable. It made Richie’s stomach do flips.

“Yeah why not? No wife, probably no job considering you just stopped showing up. Do they even know you’re here? A new start.” For us. The thought made him blush. Sure, things would have to stay platonic, which would end up hurting him in the end. But for now Richie was more than happy to play along as long a it meant keeping Eddie close.

“You’re insane.” Eddie just laughed at him, and yet Richie saw something in the smaller man’s eyes that he hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe, just maybe he would be able to convince him to come with. After all, it would be a shame if Richie himself had to move to whatever Hell Hole Eddie would find for himself.


End file.
